Lonely Nights
by Shellie1
Summary: When Ron is lost in a tragic Quidditch accident, Harry finds he is alone in a world in which he was once comfortable. One particularly lonely night, he finds solace and comfort in an unexpected form.


**LONELY NIGHTS**

With Ron gone, Harry thought sadly as he lay in bed, it was almost as if he had become nothing, that he had nobody left. Who could've imagined that he, the most famous boy in the wizarding world, could be so alone. Even now, the thought almost made him laugh.

Since the accident, the Gryffindor boys and, Harry supposed, the girls too, had huddled together, seeing and presumably finding comfort in numbers. Hermione had disappeared, retreating into a world of books and knowledge. The boys to which he had always thought himself closest, had taken to spending as little time in the dormitory as humanely possible. This was of course for Harry's benefit. He knew they all blamed him; but that was all right, he blamed himself too.

His thoughts still running amok in his mind, Harry listened to the laboured breaths of his peers. _'Get some sleep, it'll do you good'_, McGonagall had said. _Sleep?_ he now repeated incredulously in his head, his eyelids closing lightly. How could he be expected to sleep when he only ever saw Ron's pained face imprinted on the underside of his lids? No, he shook his head dejectedly, he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

As he lay there, his mind drifted uneasily to other matters. The noises that emerged from an otherwise dormant castle had always fascinated, if not alarmed, him and tonight was no exception. Although students were made to adhere to strict curfew times, the animals kept by such students were given free reign of the dormitories at night. If he listened hard, Harry could hear them now: Neville's toad quietly croaking from where he was most probably perched on his owner's pillow; the soft hooting of an owl taking a nightly flight across the grounds; somebody's cat skulking into the room, not so gracefully bumping into a small table as it passed.

"Ouch."

Harry froze; that was no cat. He had learnt, during his time at Hogwarts, that almost anything was possible, but he had yet to discover anybody who had bestowed the power of speech upon their animal.

Whoever was in the room, however, was getting closer. Harry shook his head in the darkness, grabbling on the side for his wand and glasses. He found them both with relative ease, slipped the latter onto his nose and softly muttered the word _Lumos_.

Instantly, the dormitory was filled with a light so bright even Harry, who had been expecting it, had to look away. Somewhere, somebody mumbled something incoherent before turning over in their sleep.

Once Harry's eyes had adjusted sufficiently, he turned his head back in the direction of his now glowing wand, searching for the intruder. The sight that met him was not one he had been expecting.

"Hi," she started, a little gingerly, a blush spreading from the base of her neck.

"Ginny?" Harry tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Sadly, the little red-haired girl, the sister of his deceased best friend, shrugged. "Can I come in?" she asked quietly, her green eyes seeking out his.

"Err, i-i-in?" Harry found himself stuttering. Surely she didn't mean…

As he turned over in his mind what she may have meant, Ginny begun her approach to the bed.

"Uhh, sure-" he tried to smile, holding back a corner of the covers for her.

"Don't worry," she whispered with a low chuckle, as she climbed in beside him, "I'll keep my hands to myself."

The sentiment would have been a little amusing, if it hadn't gone straight through Harry's heart like a piercing arrow. Of course she wouldn't want to touch _him_, the person repsonsible for her brother's death. But then, his brow furrowed in thought as he replaced his glasses on the nightstand, what was she doing here now? Something didn't add up.

"I couldn't sleep." As if she knew what he was thinking, Ginny answered him, "I thought you might be in the same position."

"You mean you want to–" Harry turned to face away from her, unable to finish his question. Why was she doing this to him? Didn't she know this was killing him?

"To …?" she prompted gently, a delicate hand finding its way to Harry's shoulder.

Unwittingly, he flinched at the contact. The first contact he'd had since the accident.

"To be here," he gulped, willing himself not to cry, willing himself to be strong.

He could feel the bed shaking gently and knew instinctively that Ginny was shaking her head emphatically.

"To be here, with me," he reiterated, his voice no louder than a forced whisper.

"Oh Harry," he heard Ginny coo, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him in a tight embrace. An embrace he had never the desire nor the strength to entangle himself from.

"I killed him, Gin."

Against his back, Harry felt the smallest of movements as Ginny recoiled. He squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of the immense pain he had brought upon his family that he had grown to love, a family he had come to see almost as his own. It was selfish to lie here, wallowing in his own grief. There were others who would be suffering more; suffering that he had brought on.

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Ginny spoke again.

"Nobody blames you, Harry."

Harry sniffled into the crook of his arm.

"You know that, don't you. Harry?"

Ginny waited for a response, but none came. She frowned into the darkness, deep in thought. What had Harry meant – he had killed Ron?

"Harry, Harry," she made sure she had his attention, "please face me."

Reluctantly, Harry turned to face the small red-head. This was torture; it was worse than any meeting he'd had with Lord Voldemort thus far. It took every strength he could possibly muster not to break right then, now he was face to face with someone who had used to think so much of him.

"No one blames you, Harry." Ginny reached a tentative hand to her friend's cheek. The smallest of touches, it was all it took to push Harry over the edge and silently a tear slipped down his cheek, its path halted by the younger girl's small hand. "It's not your fault."

"B-b-b-but-"

"It's not your fault," Ginny repeated.

"It was my broomstick."

"It was Ron's dream."

"You weren't there, Gin. That crack-" Harry found himself unable to continue, the reality of the words too unbearable to live through again.

"I wasn't there, but I know there was no way of stopping Ron when he's so set against something. I _have_ lived with him for fifteen years." Ginny tried not to think about the fact that she would no longer be living with her brother. "Ron wanted to play in the big match, he wanted to practice _that_ evening – there was nothing you could have done."

"I could have stopped him," Harry hiccupped, now unable to stop the tears freefalling from his eyes.

"And risked an argument instead?"

The moment the words were out, Ginny winced, regretting them deeply.

"Better an argument than death." Harry hadn't needed to say it.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Both overcome with despair, the two teenagers relaxed into silent companionship. Harry, still shaking from the vivid emotions flowing through his body, did nothing to stop the tears now. Absent-mindedly, her thoughts not really on her actions, Ginny ran her fingers through Harry's hair, tweaking it gently when she reached the ends.

How long they lay there, Ginny didn't know. Eventually, however, she felt Harry's body slump against hers and the arm he had deposited over her waist grow heavy. The older boy, his head buried into the side of her neck, was asleep. As she watched him in the near darkness, she was both reassured and soothed by the sound of his heavy breathing.

They would be all right, the two of them, she thought optimistically.

They had to be. For Ron.

A hand still resting on Harry's head, Ginny let her eyes close, falling into her first dreamless night since the accident. She pulled Harry to her, finding an immense amount of comfort in his warmth and closeness. "We'll get through this, Harry," she kissed him lightly on the forehead, "I won't let anything happen to you."


End file.
